The Assassin
by TheDevilKnowsMyName
Summary: In the years of 2770-2859, Thror, the Mad King, succumbed to the Gold Sickness, and sent dwarfs to plunder the Shire when rumor sparked of a treasure that lay there. After the atrocities that were committed there, the hobbits and dwarves made a compact. But now a king lay dying... A prince lay in wait for his ceremony... And a plan set in motion ages ago was ready... It was time...
1. A Tale

**Oh, I must go soon, in a few hours time.**

**So, if you have any requests, I would say you better hurry. It is afternoon now, and I know you will have to go soon too, you might be late for the ship tomorrow if you stay after dark.**

**Another tale, now?**

**Really?**

**Alright, let me think.**

**Ah! Yes.**

**This tale is one I should caution you about, for it holds a romance that buds with an aggression, and many a tale of tragedies. But this story also holds truth, the truth about ourselves and what we wish to have, what we wish to take from others and what cost we would go to get it.**

**Still wish to hear it?**

**Good.**

_These are of the events that took place in the years 2770-2900…_

In these times, no darkness lay here, no force of power with a will of ill upon this world lurked here. It was peaceful and that was all because of a war; a great one that overtook the land and cast out the previous malicious lord, Saouron. And it tossed him from this world, far away with his master, Morgoth, the original seed of evil, into the void to be forever entrapped by the Valar, our gods. But though the main evil be cast away from these lands, the evil within ourselves reigns supreme.

And all it took for such evil to erupt was a rumor, a spark of telling that within the Shire was a wondrous treasure that lurked beneath its nourishing soil and lay in its waiting dirt.

This rumor interested many of the races from all over, to men of Dudain to Gondor's steward and elves of Greenwood, Rivendell, and Lotherin. It even traveled as far east as the Iron Hills, especially the Blue Mountains and Khazadum.

But most of all, it thrived within Erobor, the Mountain alone.

Thror, the king under the mountain, heard of the tales of swirling mithrill, everlasting diamonds, molded gold, silver and emeralds that were lying in wait to be claimed by any who saw fit to claim it. His council gossiped over it in suspicious tones. They talked and whispered if it could be true as they went about their days.

All the while though, dark thoughts moved over the king as he narrowed his eyes in want, lust of the grand land. His mind delved deep into the thoughts of it; for you see, the king had an illness stirring inside him.

It was an illness of the mind that befell dwarfs when grief and mourning struck them and they delved into their greed, into the gold. There were few who fell to such a thing, but the king did, for he had lost his light in the day, his morning star, his queen. And the grief struck inside him like a painful and unrelenting dagger. He became soulless, helpless as this illness began to consume him.

He showed no signs of his behavior, though, no signs of the usual, with increased interest in gold, obsession with mining, nothing, but nobody really watched him closely to know of his nightly activities. When the lights were dimmed and all slept within that mountain, he snuck out to the treasure hall to marvel at the deep, rich, yellow metal that gripped his heart and wants.

His own son, Thrain, didn't see his father's fall either: but there was something that he had seen. He had made no note of his behaviors, nor did he watch his father's nightly routine. But he did see something shift in the father he had grown so close to, who he had seen battle with and loved unconditionally. He thought it was nothing more than the woes of the heart, nothing as terrible as this illness that took its host and changed them, twisted them.

But when he did finally see everything for what it was, it was far too late.

Thror had been mounting a mission ever since he heard about the wondrous treasure. He planned it secretly and trusted few, told even less as he commenced this operation; but the day he did, Thrain could do nothing to stop him.

Dwarves marched on the lands to the Shire, their metal gleaming in the sunlight as hundreds went to the Hobbit's dwelling, all with a mission in mind. But they did not take it by force nor were they violent, but they were brisk and curt to a point as they asked for residence there. The hobbits relented, not having much of a choice as they could never wish to overcome such a threat, even with the rangers and few bounders* they had.

And that was all his son could find out, what was a lie and what was truth, he did not know; all the same, he was not happy.

Thrain was furious as he heard of this and his father digging for the treasure in the hobbit's lands. He tried to plead with him to see reason, but during their conversation, that grew into an argument, he realized his father had succumbed to the Gold Curse. The father he knew would never endanger people so, the man he had once known would never have tried to do such a dishonorable thing. And as he left his council, he knew he had to do something.

Unfortunately, there was no cure for this.

Whoever befell such a terrible fate was locked away until the end of their days or put to death by the sword. It was the family's choice. Things were not so simple though. He was king after all. Things were done with secrecy so that he would not do anything irrational or try to stop those who followed Thrain, but it was tedious dealings.

During this time, while gathering support to get his father off the throne, he also checked the records for things Thror had done, and he went over the supplies and the dwarfs he sent over to the Shire.

He paled at what he saw.

All the dwarfs were known agitators and disturbers, and they each had weapons.

Thrain was outraged as he tried to call the armies back, to quicken the pace of the dethronement of Thror, but he couldn't. He had to get all the council members on his side, just one against him could drag it all out longer than it had to be, and many of the council members were at war with each other in politics. It was a frustrating and vexing action to get these old folk together who cared little of others on the outside of their mountain.

But that was not only the reason that years, decades went by, but also that Thror's gold lust had taken a turn towards his family. He no longer viewed Thrain as a son, but more as an enemy to his throne. And almost every second, he had spies and others watching his every move. He had to be careful and he had to take his time, but it was time that seemed to be slipping from him as years passed by, too many to count, and his worry of the hobbit's fate gained.

The prince received a few birds from the Shire that he intercepted, but each wrote of failures, and each made no comment on what they were doing while they were there.

Thrain could only imagine, and what he saw was nothing of a good nature.

After long years, he had been able to get the support he needed, but something was happening that Thrain had not intended.

Thror had closed the Debate Halls, places set up so the common folk could argue and learn about the politics in the mountain so they knew what was happening in their home, and that was a cry of displeasure to all the common folk and a massive impact in Thrain's plans. He needed the people on his side and customs had to be upheld when sending the king from the throne, it was knowledge that any king that was to be overturned had to have a number of common folk against him as well and his council members.

If there was no place there to hold such a meeting in front of all to tell of the king's hushed plans, what should he do? There were guidelines, rules, but all seemed to be blocked by the king as he was deterred left and right, again and again by his father as they years ticked by and only silence came from the Shire, pure silence.

He found that he had no choice then but to illicit a civil war, the people hated Thror already, hated the closing of the debate halls, the cutting of voices for them in the council, and of the highered prices within the mountain. But once again, his father turned against him, threatening him and all who stood with him with death.

So he did something that no other king, prince or dwarf under the mountain would even consider doing with this inside affair. He brought in help from the outside, and he called upon the white council. They answered in kind when they heard of the horrors that could have been happening in the Shire and of the fall of the king, Thror.

Gandalf, the grey wizard, helped him in this fight, as well as Lady Gladriel who used her influence and magic, while Eldrond came with help from the other dwarfs around and elves.

Thror had not expected his son to seek help from outside the mountain. He had not foreseen this because of how secretive they were with their own dealings.

Even though he had not suspected though, did not mean the fight was won. For ten or so days Thrain was able to fight against them.

Eventually, they won against those few still loyal to the king as they took control. The White Council then ruled over the mountain along with Thrain as they called the armies back and learned of what had befell the Shire.

Each of them were in horror as they heard the tales that were all silent for a near ninety decades, but now screamed.

The dwarfs had done their duty, for a few months, stuck to their jobs, but as they stayed longer and lived in the Shire, they did more than just their job.

When disappointment and failure brew in the air, they took their women, raped them, and murdered men who tried to stop them. Tragedies of women defiled and men abused were filtered to their ears as they heard of the many things these dwarfs did, and how they cut off communication by nearly destroying all of the Duneland folk who fled north, and attacked birds with their hunting crows.

Thrain himself was abhorred as he heard of the horror.

Thror hid many more secrets though, things he had done all over Middle-earth that he had meticulously hidden away.

But Thrain was able to resolve things with the help of the White Council. And with time, hard and pounding months, they were even able to right the wrongs they had done in the Shire by creating the Third Age Compact with them.

It allowed the dwarfs to have communication and dealings with them still, but there were many rules set on them, and many things discussed within heated rooms. Other races helped rebuild their home. And after long years, they took to establish themselves, to become a force in this world as they went into a reign of peace.

And the dwarfs would now say things were settled between them, things were...if anything, agreeable...but there are always multiple sides to a story…


	2. Never

**Year of 2904**

The wind rustled through grass, bending them in the fields while the day's sun was high up in the sky, striking noon in the hours.

Birds sang in the high trees while the sky bloomed like a flower with colors of blue and white, looking beautiful and clear.

In the fields, a herd of deer grazed in the high grass, flocking together while they galloped through the high grass, their black eyes relaxed as the faun played together with their parents and fur of white and sandy brown shining in the afternoon while their hooves scraped at the dirt.

_"Time be still and tell me a tale."_ A voice sang in the high breeze as seeds from the trees above floated down in the air, white and light as a feather.

_"Day be short and sing me a song. Night be long and send me dreams, so I may wait for where I belong."_ The enchanting voice continued as it traveled through the fields, stopping where it pleased and picking up where it willed while the animals around were startled.

_"As beautiful as dawn with eyes that spawn,"_ the voice then dropped its tone as it continued, _"and a kiss of gold with a gentle hold."_

The skies parted as the birds listened in while squirrels paused in curiosity, then scampered away in fright of the sound.

_"His lips of red that trembled with dread."_ Deer paused, their heads stretching up as those eyes became cautious as their ears perched up and twitched at hearing this voice ring through the air.

_"My love that has a soul of light and of a sprite."_ The herds of deer scampered away from the voice, staying close to their children, as the voice neared them, galloping away and disturbing the brush.

_"Cheeks blush lightly, lips hold steady, and heart be still from your beats."_ A woman then came into view as she walked form behind a small hill, her voice rising in song.

She had a smile on her face as she looked over the land like she were a child marveling at it for the first time. Her raven, curly hair drifted in the breeze as she took in a deep breath, her eyes closing savoring it as she released it in a large sigh, her body relaxing and feeling at ease. The woman's green eyes opened and stared mesmerized by the fields as her hand was placed upon her large belly, where she gently rubbed it and cooed to the baby inside of her.

Her eyes shimmered with love and adoration as she smiled down at her belly, but a painful movement inside her stopped her movements as her eyes shut at the pain.

She huffed out a breath as pain shot through her, her eyes closed tight. It soon weared off in moments as she opened her eyes and sported a smirk on her face.

Clouds hovered over the lands as the winds rustled her raven hair as she gazed up at them, the sun's warmth and glow shining through on her face.

_"While birds sing a tune and flowers rise in a bloom, sending me into a dream so sweet."_ She continued singing and then looking down towards her belly, with a smile only a mother could understand.

_"As beautiful as dawn with eyes that spawn, and a kiss of gold with a gentle hold._" She hummed as she rocked herself back and forth on her bare feet, feeling the tickle of the grass beneath it and around the sensitive hairs on her feet.

_"Under the trees where the bee's hive swings, under the sky where birds fly,"_ she sung as she continued to walk and stare up at the sky.

_"That is where he'll be, that is where he'll sing."_ She stopped short as a strong kick came from the babe again, and she hissed only a little bit, but the pain passed while she caressed her stomach lovingly, getting used to the slight pain.

_"In the air as it passes your hair, in the pure state of stars, he who waits for me with that love of his, that is where he is."_ She stopped singing and paused as another kick came from her stomach, but this was more painful and felt slightly different from a kick. And it then proceeded again, it was rough, a sharper kind of pain that made her breathing harden as she took a deep breath, her brow furrowing. Then the pain came again, this time much more fierce.

"Ah," she hissed out again, the kicks getting worse and worse as the time went on. She hadn't felt such pain before during all her pregnancy and she wondered why she was now, but it all dawned on her as she gasped, her face pale and mind blank: her baby was coming.

But instead of feeling as a mother should in this time, prideful, happy of her child's coming, she shook her head in denial.

"No, no, my baby, don't come yet!" She pleaded with the small one, but as another pain came, she knew that nothing would stop this baby from being born into the world.

The woman then rushed back to the Shire, hair flying in the wind as the day suddenly took a dark turn, clouds forming that were once white and pure, now dark and grey. She ran as fast as she could over the fields with the pains that coursed through her as she groaned in protest. Pain engulfed her as she ran back, tripping a few times when the it hit hard.

And as the day grew gloomy and the winds started to pick up, she wondered not if she would make it, not if she died in childbirth, not if someone would help, but of her baby actually being born into the world.

A fear gripped her of what would become of the child once it was out of her womb, of the future that lay in store for it and what may become of her child. And that fear coursed through her blood, making it run cold as the winds shook the air and she ran against it, trepidation trembling through her as her black cloak rustled in the winds.

She ran towards a structure, tall and firm with walls of stones and a gate ahead, letting people through and others pass while guards stationed there saw her running desperately. They exchanged glances as others directed the traffic while one moved towards her, wondering what was the matter. When she neared closer, he heard her pleading.

"My baby, please, my baby is coming!" she shouted out as she startled the travelers and the guardsmen, their eye wide as they realized the situated and stunned. The guardsmen were moving over to her, unsure of what to do as the tried to help her inside. People stared at her, backing away from the lady as the guards helped her in, a few staying back to directed the traffic. As they made it in, the guards halting to ask where to go, the woman's eyes landed on a few people walking away for the gates as they drew up their cloaks, eyes cast to the looming grey skies.

"Berry, Heather!" she called to them in desperation as the guards paused and looked towards the group girls and boys. They turned their heads, looking up as their names were called, and for a moment they were alarmed by the guardsmen, but when they saw the woman in their arms, they quickly reacted, heading over to her and taking her off the hands of the guardsmen.

They came to her aid, the men moving her arms over their shoulders as they helped with her weight, telling the soldiers that they could handle this as the women looked at the coming mother's face worried.

"Bell, are you alright?" one of the women asked as the clouds darkened, the men looking to her with confusion and concern.

"What happened?" the other woman questioned, her eyebrows furrowed in anxiousness.

"Is it the baby?" Bell nodded her head.

"The baby's coming," she told them, mumbling it as another pain had her gasping.

"Go to Bag End!" she shouted as she ignored their other questions, her mind and body reeling in pain as her thoughts lingered on dark times once again. The women were startled by her shout, but the men swiftly complied, the women following after with worried glances as they proceeded to carry her to her house.

All the while though, she was shaking her head, mumbling and whispering to herself about how she couldn't do this and how she wished things were different. They ignored her banter as the saying of a pregnant woman in the throngs of labor, but it was more than that. Her eyes were tearing up, her face to the skies as she wished to whatever gods would listen that they protect her child and grant her the wish to see her baby's face.

When she was met with silence, the winds picking up, the scrambling of people running to their homes as a storm brewed, she understood that no god, no act of intervention would play out in some miracle. All that would happen was the inevitable and that is what she feared as the tears streamed down her white cheeks.

"Ah!" She screamed just as they made it to the house, disturbing the resident inside as her husband came rushing over to her, distraught and terrified as he looked over her face that was the expression of pain.

"What's happening?" He questioned the men in a dreading tone, his face slowly losing color as he looked to his wife who watched him with gasping breaths. "Is it the baby? he inquired as he stared at his wife, trepidation and anxiousness in his voice and vibrating through his eyes that it left the other wondering what that look meant.

Her black hair was sticking to her face that was now pale and lips pink, her eyes rimmed red form her crying and cheeks wet not only from the sweat, but the trails of her shed sorrow. And with a stern and stiff nod she confirmed it, her eyes locking with her husband as the air seemed to leave him, his eyes drifting to her stomach not in joy, not in a state of gaiety, but in consternation.

"We need the midwife." She said in a breathy voice as she groaned in pain again, throwing her head back while a white hot flash of discomfort came over her like a storm. And then, the feel of liquid pouring down her thighs caused a shiver to run up her spine, resonating in her entire body as the reality of the situation hit her over while thunder rumbled outside.

This baby was coming, after nine months of having this child inside of her, of taking care of herself, of singing to it, thinking about its name, hurling from the sickness it caused, feeling the child inside of her, sacrificing her time and life for it, it was coming. That fact burrowed into her soul and weighed her down as she stared at her stomach, water trickling from between her legs as tears went down her face.

A dark thought entered her mind then, so shattering that it left her wanting to fall to her knees and scream to the heavens and the earth as she cursed herself and everything in existence: she would never do that again for this child.

The mother to be was pulled back to the present time by the force of another surge of agony.

"It's coming!" She screamed out, alerting the men and women around her. Her husband quickly began talking to the two men, pointing frantically as he did so.

"Take her to the room down there. Be sure to have her lying on the bed with towels. They're in the closter right over there. I'll run and get the midwife." He then raced out the door, running as fast as he could while the thunder of the heavens roared outside, a storm brewing.

And nobody noticed how his body trembled, or his face lost all the color and his eyes became distant as dismay replaced everything on his face as he ran for help, his heart falling as he did so. The men walked through the home, heading to their rights down a hall as they looked over the tanned walls and family pictures that littered the walls, books and other things lying about as they were directed to the bedroom.

The two men walked her over to a white sheeted bed with a fur coating on it, the women stayed close behind, watching as they put her to bed.

When she was settled down amongst the fur and sheets, her hair disheveled as she rested against the pillows, hissing at the ache she felt in her stomach, the men stared at the women, confused at what to do while the men looked at the woman with concerned expression as she panted.

"Uh," one of the women replied as she looked to the boys, taking a firm position while the thunder rumbled outside, holding on to her black cloak.

"Gratt and Treetten you should probably get out now before the midwife comes."

"Yeah," the boys said as they turned to leave.

"But," the girl started, distraught and unsure as she glanced back at the soon to be mother, "get some things like water, large bowls, and blankets and towels. You both understand, right? You've been there when your mother has been in labor." The elder males shook their heads as the eldest answered.

"No, we were never allowed, the midwife was never too fond us of." The girl sighed as she looked at her friend in uncertainty.

"Well, I think those are the things we will need. Go and get what you can find, please." she implored and the boys nodded as they hurriedly went through the house to get the things they were ordered to. The women stood by her bed, looking around confused and helpless to the situation as the elder woman closed her eyes, breathing in and out with sharp hisses.

"No," Bell said as she shook her head, tears falling down her face while the redhead, with a green dress, sat beside her, taking her hand as the woman cried to herself, shaking her head again while cursing herself as quietly as she could. The pain engulfing her in agony with a tight, unforgiving grip.

"Ah!" She hollered as the pain grew and she shook her head, gripping onto the hand and ignoring the squeezed eyes of the girl. She sobbed to herself as she thought of what she had done, of what she had done to this baby. She felt as if she were choking on tears as they spilled form her eyes and she was the only one with the knowledge of why those tears flowed so significantly against her skin.

_Oh Eru,_ she thought to herself, _please, help me._

The girls looked at each other, their eyes filled with worry and concern, feeling lost as to what to say or do. The one gripping her hand though spoke up as she prayed to the Valar that the midwife hurried for all their sakes. She leaned forward, rubbing circles into her hand as she encouraged the girl with praise and soothing sounds.

"You're doing fine Bella," she supported as she nodded her head, "just fine." She watched as the girl grimaced though, her head shaking as her body did as well, tears falling down her face mixed in the pain and her guilt that buried her soul while the other girls tried in vain to calm her chaotic soul.

"It'll be over soon." She offered, nodding her head as Bella squeezed the girl's hand, hissing out a breath as another pain hit her.

"No," she gasped out as she placed her hand on her swollen stomach, "it can't be happening!" She said as another pain hit her, her hands tightening on her stomach as beads of sweat formed on her brow, her hair sticking to her as she continued to cry, the tears combining with her sweat and fear.

The girl stared at her, cocking her head in question at her words as she tried to continue her soothing moves over her hand. The hobbit girl then looked at the other, who at on the other side of the bed, an equally confused expression forming on her face too.

"Bella," she called to the girl, getting her green eyes to narrow and settle on her, "what are you talking about?" Bella grabbed her arm with her unoccupied hand and pulled her towards her harshly.

"Take care of my baby, Heather," she begged with panic settling in her eyes, with frantic emotions moving through those emerald eyes as it looked like a storm was happening on a sea in those beautiful hues.

"Promise me you will!" The hobbit stared at Belladonna's green eyes,m trying to pry form her expression and that fear what it was that she needed to be eased. Was it simply the ramblings of a woman in pain, at the edge of giving birth who needed reassurance that her baby would be protected form the world's cruel hands? Was it just a mother in concern of her baby?

She felt as if, it was not that simple.

There was something in those eyes that told her she needed this, even if Heather could not readily understand the reasons behind it, and she was not going to be satisfied if she did not give the answer she wanted to calm her set nerves. So the girl answered, even when the curiosity in her wished to know what fears lay behind that scared look, as her brown hair fell from her shoulder in a wavy mess and her own green eyes spoke of sincerity.

"I will," she said sternly and with every bit of emotion as Bella needed to hear, "I promise you." The woman's fears and doubts eased instantly back as the girl gave her the promise.

The woman's eyes looked less wide and scared as she breathed out a pained sigh and nodded her head, as if retelling herself that everything was going to be okay now that this promise was made and her baby's safety was in someone's hands she trusted. She then sat back with pains still flowing through her body.

"Thank you, Heather." She breathed out, relief thick in her voice as she offered a squeeze to the younger woman's hand just before another pain hit her, driving up her spine while they waited for the midwife to arrive and the men to get what they needed.

While they waited though, Heather feared for what she had just promised to the woman, she was not sure why those eyes were so scared. She had never seen Bella look like that in all her life. She was a strong and independent woman that also had confidence in her, but recently she had noticed a slight decline in this.

She was not the same and though she asked many times what was the cause of her behavior, she did not answer, only met with a sad smile and a conviction that it was nothing. She held onto her friend's hand and worried for her future as her eyes moved to her stomach and she also wondered what future the child would have as well while the room echoed in pain and the small halls of the house bared witness, silently.

The midwife arrived after a couple more minutes, leaving the men outside and getting the women as educated as quickly as possible on what to do and what not to do as her own assistants were off on the other side of the Shire. They had already gotten most of the things they needed as the midwife prepared and soon enough they began to ask her to push.

The labor was brutal as the men waited outside, pacing around, biting their thumbs, and waiting in worry and fear as they heard the sounds of Belladonna howling in the room with fierce pain. But the cries were far painful than any other pregnancy the boys had ever heard from their mother who had a number of children. They worried for her and the child as they looked to each other in dismay.

And her husband, Bungo, would say the same.

He paced back and forth, but with quicker steps and an anxious attitude. He kept glancing at the door, waiting and walking as he thought about things over and over. Eventually though, the hobbit sat down, sighing in defeat as another cry came from his wife.

The two boys kept to themselves as the man sat down, choosing not to comfort him as they knew not what to say to put him at ease. They need not to talk though, for Bungo began to mumble to himself, grumbling in tones of hate.

"Why, why?" he repeated as he rested his head in his hands and sat back against the chair he chose.

"We'll never see." He said as he shook his head, and then dropped his hands, gazing at his tea which was as cold as stone. Another horrifying cry broke through their minds as the midwife said encouragements to the woman who sobbed as if she were being tortured while the men tried not to cringe at the high vocal sound.

"Never, never," he grumbled as he slumped forward and let his elbows rest on his knees, while he stared at the ground, pondering on the future and what it held for them. The eldest of the two boys began to grow worried for the man as he switched his positions often and said incoherent things while staring off into space as if death were there. He leaned towards the man as his brother shrugged, sitting down on a nearby couch.

"Mr. Baggins," he said politely, to which the man turned to see the boy, looking at him with concern.

"Is there something else on your mind?" The man looked at him with melancholy eyes. He did not respond right away though as his mind seemed to drift to some distant thought before coming back and answering.

"Yes," he responded, looking away, "something ails me." The boy looked at his brother who shrugged with concern for the man as well, staying in his seat, but having an expression of intrigue.

The boy turned his gaze back to the man, asking, "What is it that is the matter?"

The hobbit looked down for a moment and a hiatus followed where the man thought and the boy waited patiently for the answer to his inquiry. The other brother, switched his stare to the hallway, which held the door where the women were, and then back to the man sitting across from him, and he wondered, with an itch of curiosity, what ailed the man as well.

Then, like a taking of a life that was loved, he cried out in grief, while the woman inside screamed.

The nearest brother went to the man's side, while the other reacted in a start and placed his hands on the arm of the wood chair as if he were about to jump out of it, looking from his elder brother to the man. The boy hushed Bungo as the women inside shouted things that were incoherent to them.

"Master Baggins," he said with surprise, "why do you cry so?" The man let out a sob of dismay and heartache as he sat up with his head in his hands as a quivering voice took over him.

"My child," he breathed out shakily, with a voice that told of the apprehension he had.

"What about your child?" The younger one asked as he sat on the edge of his seat, looking interested and anxious towards the situation that occurred. Bungo took his hands away from his face, showing tears flowing down his cheeks with a gaze of defeat and loss.

"I-we-," he stuttered out as he tried to answer the boy, but was soon shaking his head in disinterest as he hung it low.

"Oh, the Valar damn me and Morgoth swallow me whole for what has happened!" The boys glanced back at each other as this man looked away from them, staring at the floor once more.

The nearest boy spoke once again, "What has happened?" The man looked towards the boys once again; such regret was upon his face that the boys flinched backwards at seeing his despairing eyes.

"We-," he cut himself off as he leered down at the fireplace that he had started before they were back, his on the woods burning and devouring the wood.

"...she...her...," he tried speaking as he paused; trying to find his words, but all was stopped as the sound of a cry, not of a woman's, but of a babe's sounded. the three of them held their breaths and looked towards the door.

"Oh, Eru," Bungo breathed out as he raced to the door, opening it up to see the women cleaning up and washing the baby down, while Belladonna lay on the bed; a tired and exhausted expression on her face as her eyes fluttered open and closed with exasperation.

"My baby," she mumbled in a sleepy tone, "let me see my baby." Bungo watched his wife, her head trying to be lifted to see the child, but unable to as the energy had left her in labor.

Hurriedly, Bungo went over to the midwife to look at the baby and bring it to his wife, but the midwife blocked him away from the baby, cradling it to her breast. The man growled angrily at her, his eyes matching the intensity of her own steel blue ones.

"Let me see my child." Bungo demanded as he stood in front of her with a stern expression.

"No," she replied as she went about her business, covering the child and protecting it from the prying eyes of the father as it kept quiet to her. Belladonna cocked her head, humming out, "Let me see my baby." But the midwife ignored her and moved away from the other girls who went around, cleaning and grabbing the sheets.

The boys at the door watched the woman, who pleaded for her baby, and the midwife, who did not do as she asked and started to side with Bungo, feeling a sense of anger as the stepped into the room.

"Give her the child for Eru's sake!" Bungo pleaded, his hands laid out, waiting for the baby to be placed in his hands or for the midwife to comply with his order, but he only got a quick glower from her wicked eyes.

"No!" she shouted out, silencing Belladonna's pleas and Bungo's arguments towards the woman as everyone around the room became still, including the two brothers. The two girls, who moved around the room, stopped their movements as well when they heard the woman shout rudely and bitterly while boys flinched at the intensity of her voice and the crack in it.

Then she began to move away with the child, but Bungo stepped in front of her, stopping her movements as the two brothers also blocked the doorway, not letting this go by sa they witnessed the crime.

"Give me my baby!" The hobbit said as he stomped his foot, growling with ire in his throat and a rage that no other hobbit had ever seen on his jolly and usually calm face before, his nostrils flared and brow furrowed with determination.

"No," she repeated again, this time with an eased tone and a slight hint of sadness in it as well, "Bungo, you know what you did and you know what she did." She reminded him with a shake of her head as she held the baby close to her chest, not letting either of them see it or know what it was. Her eyes stayed on the sinking brown hues of Bungo's own, watching as the intensity of rage started to die down as she placed fact and layers upon the fire.

"This is the deal that you signed and if you don't own up to it willingly," she forced out even though it made her tongue go bitter and mouth fill with a foul taste as she felt just as guilty as the person who had ordered this, her gaze stayed hardened though, "Festri will by force."

The father of the child did not make a move then, his face softening into one of acceptance and melancholy as his eyes peered down upon the bundle that was his baby, but he did not move and he did not say anything to the woman, just remaining there while the spectators could do nothing.

After a few moments, she began to move again; and this time, no one stopped her, not even the two brothers or girls as they knew how she spoke of and his word was law. Bungo heard his wife's calling once more and he shut his eyes tightly as tears started to spill form his eyes, while the boys let her pass by, faces held downwards, not looking at the frantic woman or the defeated man as they felt her brush past them.

"No…" Belladonna breathed out as she watched the woman leave, nothing stopping her form taking her child.

"My baby…" she called out as the tears returned, coming out of her with more emotion than before as all her fears had been met and reality sunk in that this wasn't a dream. It wasn't one of those times she'd wake up to the comfort of her husband and the promise that maybe they might live with their child by their side and watch it grow into a respectable hobbit.

She would never get the chance to see that child or to sing to it, to hold it and tell it they he loved them to the bottom of her heart and would never let them go. Her nightmare had finally become her reality.

"Not my baby," She sobbed as she curled in on herself, the pain coursing through her still and the sheets drenched in blood as well as her dress, but she carried not as the blood settled, some of it drying and her thighs wet with the liquid as the sounding footsteps came and she couldn't handle the pain in her stomach as they grew more distant while the silent observers hung their heads in shame.

Bungo fell to the floor, powerless to do anything as the woman took his child while he heard the cries of his wife. He hit the ground with a bang as his knees gave in, and he now knelt with a look of utter defeat as the woman cried out, to their child and he couldn't provide for her and save their own child. He could do nothing as he rested on the floor, his wife in pain and numb as he felt the same thing too.

"My baby..."she whispered as she curled in the the bed and heard a resounding and final slam that echoed in the halls like thunder.

"No!" Belladonna shouted as the sound vibrated through her being and she knew that she would never in her whole life, be able to see her child. He fate was now out of her hands as she cried softly and began to drift to sleep, imagining what her child might grow up to be.


	3. It's Time

**Year of 2941**

The sky was of the color of blue, the purest and lightest kind. Not a cloud was in the heavens as the sun hovered over the busy beings on the ground. The beings in the town busied themselves with their everyday lives, doing business and working. Tents and bars were step up as people shouted things across a square area, filled with paved stone and set up for trading, advertising their products, bringing many to their shops.

"We've got fresh early girls and cherry tomatoes here!" A woman with pointed ears, curly, messy hair and a short stature shouted from behind one of the set up counters as she held up the tomatoes for others to see and examine, bringing more over to look and buy as they pleased while her big, hairy feet shuffled hurriedly.

The beings talked amongst each other with vigor in the open square as chatted and sounds of talk moved through the crowd like a thunderstorm. Hobbits were social creatures and often loved to talk and laugh as they bought food drank ale and rested in peace and quiet, where their hearts were content and rightly so.

But in this town, the Shire, where Hobbit's existed and called this home, they were not the only ones that came to trade there. Elves came in from east of the Misty Mountains having goods from Greenwood and the forest of Luthien while men also came here form the great cities of mankind with merchandise to sell and knowledge to be gained.

Both races had made it a point to come and trade in the large square that was open to them at all times of the summer and spring months. Each of the races traded and gave secrets about their culture as men and elves showed them weapons of different kinds and familiarized themselves with the smaller beings.

The three races benefited highly from this as they laughed and talked with each other, exchanging information as historians wrote down facts about the elves and man while those beings did the same, culture clashing together and melting slowly into each other as curiosity blossomed into the relationship that it was between.

It had become the new age where there was no longer the fear of intrusion there once was between the hobbits and other races as they embraced each other's cultures, learning much form each other as they traveled the open roads.

Hobbits themselves had become more adventurous creatures, going off to different places where they pleased as they learned of the new things around them and flourished off of the ideas and traditions that both men and elves had. The Shire was one of the many places open to the races to trade and converse with them as they created bonds and stories that would last for lifetimes.

Before, it was quiet an ill thing to think about a stranger, or even any other races, coming in there and trying to trade or be apart of the society. It would have been blasphemy to even think about traveling past the town of Bree and trying to see the elves or the lands of old. Hobbits had been known for their secrecy, privacy, and habits of not trusting any strangers for fear of what they might do.

Many would have said that the outside world was no place for a hobbit, and if you think not, then you're asking for a load of trouble. And not many would have readily disagreed or even think about the statement twice.

Now, it was almost customary to have healthy curiosity about elves and men, even traveling to one or two places with them to see the world outside of their own and have their eyes feast on the world as it was. This change was a one that had to have been inevitable in the grand scheme of things, but the start of their world changing had not come from an ideal setting.

Years ago, at least 107, by Shire reckoning, a race, that was not found in this time among them trading and sharing secrets, first came in and invaded the hobbit's land: dwarves.

The race was not so pleased with them as they started to stay there, taking up loading and houses for their own use and they came on a pretense that they were there to find something and to wish the king's good will on the people.

Of course, the hobbits had been quiet afraid and even very vulgar towards them, but they were not in a position to threaten or say anything as weapons were shined towards them. The rangers could never hope to form any sort of army against them, or to hold them back, they were a small group, and not that large, but even with that they would have still fought.

Fortunately, it had not come down to that as they stayed back and away from them, accepting them to the Shire's home. Bounders though, a sort of security measure only used by hobbits alone, were there as well to keep eyes on them.

And though tenses were high nothing untowards happened in the first few months that they stayed there. But then as what they were looking for was not found and winter neared its grueling months, some of them began to yearn for home and become disgruntled, radical.

They started to drink a lot more and were even taking up their food as well they became a nuisance and a disruption to their society and decided to do something about it as they tried to drive them out.

All of that proved unfruitful as they were able to restrain and take over the hobbits. They then became violent with them, no longer treating them like honorable hosts, but more like . Some of the dwarfs abstained from being violent or rude to the creatures that were innocent to the prisoners and captives of war.

They took away their means of communication with the outside world and the rangers as well, cutting them off as they used their power to make them become silent to the world around, which was relatively easy as the way that the hobbits lived was as such.

Soon, it became much worse for the hobbits as their homes were taken away, their food and many other possessions that then became the dwarves and they were ordered like servants, tried like second class.

They tried to fight back, form unions and drive them out, but the rioters were rounded up and either made an example of or punished in front of others and in humiliating and painful ways.

Years they lived under the reign of what they called the Mad King, and in this time, where the dwarfs could not go home and rested there like kings and conquerors, finding nothing in the midst of the Shire, they not only used them and possessed them, but they did other things.

A breed of a new race was born out of their mistreatment as babies were raised form the forced union of dwarf and hobbit, creating life in misery. They were first addressed as "half-breeds" and looked on to be more like abominations than a living beings as they neither took on the appearance of dwarves or hobbits, but a combination leaving some of them tall with pointed ears or others short with beards.

This new breed took on features and looks that caused shock and havoc to awaken in the Shire. They were shunned from both the dwarfs and hobbits sometimes, left to die even, but some of their mother's had kept them, raised them and soon enough they became part of the Shire.

They were tried as a third class, to the hobbits and dwarfs, seen as the bottom of the whole sort, but as time went by they became more prominent in the town. They were accepted reluctantly and given the name dwobbit by the hobbits; meluzd by the dwarfs; and Naian by the elves; but still to this day there is racial and stereotypical hate depicted at them.

They too also hated the dwarfs more than they could ever hate their mother hobbits. The dwarfs were just as cruel, if not more so, to them. They helped the hobbits in battling some of the dwarfs, their strength and extra height helps them in certain fights, but they were still subdued by them as hobbits old died in the captivity of the dwarfs.

Their fates of being slaves to the dwarfs seemed to be sealed as fate had doomed them. It was only after the Mad King had died that things had started to become hopeful for them.

News then spread that the dwarfs were ordered to go home, to pick up and move back and away, but tragedy struck again. The dwarfs not only left but they dragged their bastard children with them, their daughters and sons to the depths of the mountains while the women wept and hollered at the loss of their children, being separated from their children and took them to be heirs in their family, to ensure that they were not killed, or to only cause more pain.

They dwarfs then left them in ruins and their government torn, with no leaders and nothing to truly call their own as they looked around in the desolate town, trying to piece together their broken and forgotten past. It was a relief to have the dwarves gone, not be prisoners in their own homes. But they forgot what it was like to think of this place as a home.

Slowly, they had to rebuild their home and with more defenses as well as precaution as they rose up form their own ashes. Neighboring races and cities came to help them and direct their future paths as they helped with rebuilding, defenses and government in more was than others could thank or comprehend.

The elves in particular helped them out of all the others as they were more organized and closer to them, constructing buildings for them and walls as their means of protection.

Men of Gondor also came to aid from their city, bringing fruits and money gifts to the hobbits in their time of need, with the help of the races, they were able to stand on their feet, powerful, purposeful and with a new center in Middle Earth.

Their past was not forgotten though as negotiations from the new king, Thrain, came and he too donated a large amount of money to their cause, but he was wise as not to come to them as he had known wounds were sore.

He reached out to them to try and redo the past wrongs and to compensate for what had been done to them and their lands. They had agreed as some of them thought they owed the king at least a hearing or meeting to discuss such a proposal. he had saved them from the imprisonment of his father after all. With talk in heated rooms and much to sacrifice and to gain, they drew up a contract in the 3rd Age Compact.

It stated many things such as the dwarfs not being allowed to come to the Shire, except for an ambassador with a maximum of five bodyguards and if they were accused of something, and if they were proven guilty, death.

Nobody from them could come to the Shire and trade as the other races had started to do in that time. The dwarfs were not welcome and it was stated within the words of the contract firmly if not threateningly.

There were many other things stated within the contract that held deals and compensations for every kind of tragedy that had occurred to them as well as royal engagements and relations to them as well.

Nobody fully knew what was in there as an elite group of hobbits had been chosen as the spokespersons for the event and the only one to know of what was there was the leader of the hobbits: the Thain.

He was in charge of making sure that they kept their end of the deal as well as the dwarfs too. Usually, the Thain would be someone who was a pure-blooded hobbit, not a dwobbit, but things had changed from those times before and now there had been a few who had taken up the position as the racial hatred form them died down, but was still able to be seen.

But that was life within the shire; and as of now, the only thing that reigned over them all was peace.

* * *

The house was quite, as decorations lay still against the painted walls and floor, while the early morning light poured through the windows, glowing down on the room as dust filtered around.

The only sound was the silent breaths that came from the bedroom, where a couple lay, sleeping in the bed with content and exhaustion from their night of heat and love making. They slept ever so peacefully, tangled in each other's limbs as they rested against the white sheets, smile on their faces.

But then, out in the hall, to the front entrance, a door opened, letting the light illuminate inside. It was a man who had intruded in the house, walking around confidently, whistling away his mirth as he smiled with dirty and grass stains covering him from his hard work.

He had spent most of the day over at Farmer Maggot's place, picking vegetables and helping with the other activities and he had waited a long time to come home after a day and night's work on the field. He couldn't wait to eat something.

So, with hurried steps, he went to the pantry to find something to nibble on, but as he went to it, he noticed something. At the front entrance, there was a cloak, and it was not his. He looked around the place with suspicion as he called out a name, but nothing responded back.

The man walked down the hall towards the bedroom as he had seen before that the door had been slightly ajar. With slow motions, he went over to the bedroom and looked into the room and there he saw the couple.

"Dulikhmuzmul!"

* * *

_Crash_

Sounds of things breaking and someone shouting were heard in a corner of the square trading center as barrels were tipped as they rolled away, making people jump back from them as they toppled down certain paths, coming from just at the entrance of the Shire.

People turned to see what the commotion was that they saw the barrels tumbling away and someone running after them while incoherent shouting was heard for the opposite direction.

And then, out of the direction the barrels, came a man stumbling into the crowd, as he looked back with apprehensive eyes, his shirt untucked, pants undone and shoes in his hands as his eyes looked back at the crowd in distress as he darted through the market.

He shoved passed the individuals staring at him, as he fastened his buttons in their place, and got more than one harsh tongue bantering back at him for his rudeness. He had not the time to respond to them though as he ran as quick as he could.

Out of the commotion, another man soon appeared, rage on his face as he climbed a table, filled with foods and goods, uncaring of them as he looked over the crowd.

He scanned the plethora of people as others shouted for him to get off of their table while customers waited, anger on their faces as well. He ignored them as he then found a darting figure in the crowds. He growled as he jumped off the table, running past and over people as he raced after the man.

"Bilbo!" he hollered as he saw the figure shoving here or there through the square, trying his best to escape from the man. The guards at the square looked upon the scene with dismay as they watched the two cause a scuffle and wanted to intervene; when, out of the blue, a few gasps and whistles were heard from where both the hobbits had appeared.

And as the guardsmen looked, they saw a women come with a sheet, and only a sheet, wrapped around her, dragging behind her as she raced off into the crowd, yelling, "Otho!"

The people either looked in dismay, shame or slight approval whereas the guards of the square gave each other a glance before they went off in that direction, chasing after them as they shouted for all of them to halt.

Up ahead, the hobbit who had first appeared was panting as he moved through the crowds with adrenaline in his blood. He rushed past people in the square and looked back to see that Otho was just a few persons away from him.

So he tried to find a turn or something to get lost in the crowd or to escape into a smial or shop that he would not see him slip into. The guards would be on them soon enough and then there would be even more trouble than this.

He thought as he crouched low, moving fast and yet slow at the same time as the man he was hiding from was catching up to him. As he ran he then noticed the road that lead under the bridge, with a grin he saw his escape.

He ducked down in the crowd, hurrying his steps towards the bridge, not daring to look behind him in fear of catching the eye of the man who was hunting him down.

And within seconds, he was there under the dark shade of the bridge above him, and he then slipped into the door underneath the bridge on the right side, closing it softly while some of the other travelers eyed him suspiciously as the man behind him yelled and hollered obscenities in the mix of people.

He slouched against the circular door, staying there as he waited, taking harsh breaths as he started to calm down. He watched out of the peephole and waited for the man to show up.

It took a few minutes, but soon enough Otho was there, right in front of the smial, looking about in confusion as he tried to spot the hobbit again. Bilbo waited patiently behind the door, breathing a bit frantic as he watched the man outside start to become disappointment, defeat in his gaze as he started to turn around with a huff as the others around just glanced at him with suspicion.

When he turned though, he noticed the door, surprised that it was there for a moment only to rethink as he looked at it with curiosity. But then he tried to peer inside the small hole and the other hobbit looked away, holding his breath as he prepared for the enraged husband to try to kick the door down or worse.

But as time ticked by, he did no such thing and Bilbo dared not to look outside. He just listened intently, placing his ear on the door and there he heard the voice of a woman shouting at someone.

"You stupid pig headed oaf!" Yelled a woman to which a man retorted with, "You call me that yet you're the one going around sleeping with him Bilbo! Are you stupid?"

Soon enough, the guards then came, dragging the couple away from the door as they bickered back and forth towards each other. Bilbo let himself sigh as they were taken away and fall to the floor, smiling as he took time to recover from his adrenaline and excitement.

He smiled to himself as he rested against the door, feeling a sense of triumph as he took a deep breath, his heart calming and nerves sated.

Noises were then heard within the smial and his mind was quickly deterred from resting as he smiled, sneaking his way towards the end of the hallway, which split to the left and right.

He peered down the right with slow steps as he looked into the room. He saw a woman sitting in a chair surrounded by small children who sat on plush pillows of different colors, looking up at her with dazed faces.

He smiled at their amazed faces as his eyes turned back to the woman with brown hair and tanned skin. Her eyes were the color of green as her smile sparked with love and brightness.

She wore a simple green dress that held to her body nicely and her hair was in a braid that started at the top of her head and trailed down to be placed on her side shoulder. She stared down at the children who awaited her to speak as the window in back filtered in sunlight to the room, lighting the colorful walls and her as well.

"Long ago," she started as her rosy lips moved, her voice ominous, "there was once a dark lord upon this land." Bilbo adjusted himself in the hall as he sat on the floor, watching her while he also listened to her. The woman's eyes seemed distant as she told the story, like she were there at one time and was recalling the memories.

"He ruled over it and deceived many with his form as he sparkled with brilliance and smiled with goodness, seeming to be a messenger of the Valar themselves." Her eyes narrowed.

"But," she paused, creating a dramatic effect as her eyes roamed over the children, "buried deep within though was a black hatred and power within him that wanted to dominate the world." The children had their gazes transfixed on her face, clinging off every word that left her lips.

"With this form, he was even able to trick the elves to which he used them to create rings, rings of such power that could only be controlled by one ring." She stopped, the smell of lavender filling the air as the wind outside blew into the house from the back window, letting the scent waft while she held her pause.

"The ring that Sauron himself made." She said in a darker tone

"It was the ring to rule them all, the ring to find them, the ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them." She clutched her fist at the last word as the children gasped around, with widening eyes as a small smile adorned her face before her expression turned stern.

"With this single ring upon his hand that he wrought from the fiery mountain of Doom, he could control all who had rings that were bound to it from elves to dwarves to men.

And all fell to his power and will as he sent out his orcs, goblins and other foul creatures to do his bidding. a solemn tone came over her as her eyes glazed over with a look of mourning.

"All seemed to be lost." The woman countered what she said.

"But, where darkness lay, there is always a light to be brought to it." The children became hopeful as small smiles came over their faces.

"Armies from all over Middle-earth bonded together to defeat this growing enemy. And they fought in the Great War against Saroun in the midst of Mordor." She crouched in her seat to bring her point across and all the children were captivated, even Bilbo was, both by her beauty and by the way her words spun to create the tale.

"But," she said in a clipped tone that cut some of the hope that had started to blossom in the children, "though they tried and fought as hard as they could, victory would not be there's." She shook her head, hanging it low as she did.

"For the power of the ring could not be undone." Her eyes searched the children and continued. "And the dark lord had closed in on the armies and started to destroy them." Little gasps were heard from the younlings as they shook their heads, little braids moving about or clothes rustling as they stared up at her amazed. Bilbo could not help smiling to himself at the way she entrapped the children into her story.

"But in the midst of the ragging, a king of men raised his sword and was about to strike Sauron," she told as she raised her hand up, as if she were holding her own sword, ready to defeat the evils of the world. She then rested her hand down though as she continued.

"He failed though as many did that day, to destroy him." The children's face grew ever in distress as the story seemed to only be getting worse and worse, but their attention did not waver.

"Then," her eyebrows rose in excitement, a smile starting to form over her face, "Isildur, the son of the king, took up his father's sword; and with a swing of it,' she paused using her imaginary sword to swing as she narrowed her eyes like she were a hardened warrior, "he ended the battle for Middle-Earth." She rested her hands in her lap again, taking a regal position back against the chair while Bilbo stared at her enchanting form.

"Sauron," the name seemed to echo in the room, "the enemy of us all, had finally been destroyed." And as some of the children wore smiles on their faces, those were quickly changed into frowns as she continued onwards.

"That was not the end of Middle-Earth's troubles though." Her brow rose as she spoke in a slightly whispered tone, emphasizing this.

"In the ashes of Sauron, there lay a ring, a single golden ring, the one ring." She raised her eyebrow, arching it as if in scolding of them not remembering as those small and appraising faces slumped.

"Isildur was then tasked with tossing it into the Fires of Mount Doom, which was the only place that it could be destroyed, but the power of the ring was more than just a power." She advised the children, green folding as she leaned forward, as if telling them a secret.

"It was an entity and it had a will of its own." The children's eyes were wide as their curls seemed to stand on end, their frightened faces staring at the woman before them like she were an orc.

"None, not even the master of the ring, could hope to destroy this single jewel due to its immense will power." Bilbo shifted, leaning against the doorway, without being seen by her, but a certain child with blond hair and pointed ears turned around, looking at him inquisitively as if he were a mystery.

"So when Isildur had peered down into the fiery chasm, he could not and would not sacrifice the ring. It was precious to him." The boy cocked his head, eyes on him of a brown color, with hair a fiery red, his curls going around his face and reminding Bilbo of someone he had once known. He turned away from the boy, keeping his eyes on the woman in front of him.

"That day, as he traveled back to his home in Gondor, he had died." Little gasps of shock and sorrow were heard, but Bilbo could see from the corner of his eyes that the boy had not turned his attention away form him and was still staring up at the intruder, deterred from the story.

He tried to refocus his thoughts on the woman, but the tug of his heart made him turn back to the boy, taking in those features he had seen too many times to count.

He looked over the face, seeing how it was more chubby, his cheeks filled with freckles and had on a white shirt with trousers, point elf ears, but no huge feet or hairy legs. He smiled at the child then, giving in and placing a finger over his lips in a sign of silence.

The boy at first considered him, but soon enough he smiled back at him and then Bilbo pointed to his mother and the boy nodded, turning back with a rosy blush on his cheeks.

"The ring however was not lost to the dark forces." The woman smiled, a knowing look.

"A boy, who had traveled with them, stole it and ran far away, traveling back to Mordor where the elves army was still there." The children grew excited, some biting their lips in anticipation of what was to happen next in the adventure.

"When the boy came with the ring, they knew that they were given a second chance. They were able to trick the ring then, telling the boy they would hide it away for a time, but what truly happened was the ring was taken to the mountain." Bilbo smirked as he watched the way her eyebrows rose, her hands moving with her words as she narrated the story so well.

"But this time, it was sealed in a box, its influence not as harsh as it was enchanted. And they then threw it into the chasm and the world benefited from it with the armies of mordor gone and washed out." Looks of awe crossed over the young one's faces as they gave small smiles.

"And the end of the ring and the lord of it came, and the world rejoiced, forevermore." Her speech went still as the story ended and the children all reclined inside their own minds, pondering on days lost and things of a different age. The woman in the chair smirked as the children were in silence, her glimmering smile brightening up her face and those of the children.

"Enough of story time," she then interrupted their thoughts, clapping her hands, "I think we should eat about now, it is luncheon!" She shouted and the children nodded as they then all ran into the kitchen, giggling and talking to one another as they followed her orders.

The one small boy looked back at Bilbo, smiling softly before he disappeared into the cloud of children, his curls bouncing as he left.

The hobbit smirked at the small child, his eyes almost holding a bit of sadness as he watched that boy move away. The humming of a voice and shuffling of feet on the wooden floor brought his mind back to the moment as he watched the woman go about the room, ignoring him as she went around cleaning.

Her hair was hanging from her shoulder, the braid she had it in keeping it together as her green dress clung to her body snugly and she picked up a few pillows, putting them in their place and folded blankets.

Bilbo watched her slowly organize everything as the children in the other room giggled, things clanking in the back room as she hurried to finished her duties. But she did not look or make a sound towards him, not taking notice of him or giving him the time of her attention.

_She must be mad at me again_, he thought pitifully as he shook his head, standing from his position to lean against the doorway, staring at her moving form.

"I don't think that those kids should be learning about the dark tales of the East." He commented with a small smile to his face as she scoffed at his words, but continued to clean.

"They might get ideas that the Shire isn't such a good place after all and there are grand adventures to be had." The red haired woman shook her head as she chuckled to herself, moving some quills over to a drawer.

"That Lobelia," she said with a sigh, " she's been talking some nonsense to you again."

The man shrugged as he walked over to her, the floor creaking beneath his weight as the sound of footsteps above him echoed in the room as the commotion outside picked up.

"Among other things," the woman moved away from him, not giving him a glance as she went to her work, checking in on the kids for a moment to find them all behaving and nothing ruined as of yet.

"Been busy with her too, I suppose." She stated, a bitter tone in the mix of her words as she passed his by, her dress flowing with her as her hair swayed in the motion. Bilbo almost winced as he could just hear her lecture, the full length talk that she had given him more times than he would have liked to have with her.

She was always like a mother hen to him, going around and making sure that he was fine, but also not being afraid to tell him right from wrong, to tell him that his ways were coarse and unhealthy for him. He appreciated how much she cared, but he never did as told.

The man walked back over to her, taking cautious steps towards her moving body, but again she maneuvered herself so he could not touch her or stand too close, her excuse being that she had to place a blanket under a certain pillow.

He then gave up on trying to be near her, knowing that she wasn't going to let him do anything that he wanted to. She was too irked to listen to what he had to say. The hobbit then decided to lean against the wall as she worked, his eyes on her moving limbs.

"I don't see why you are always mad when you find out about these things."

The woman slammed a book on the table as she turned her eyes to him, her evergreen gaze hardening.

"How long are you going to keep doing this?" She questioned, a hand going to her hip as she pursed her lips, her arms gesturing as she continued to talk.

"Do you even see the destruction you leave after you're done with those poor girls? Their marriages are ripped apart and their hearts torn from their chests. And you don't have the decency to stop doing this to yourself and others."

The boy frowned as he looked away from her, huffing with a roll of his eyes as he moved from her judging gaze.

"What I do on my own time has no concern of you." He stated with a stern almost cruel tone that had her mouth agape in offense at the harsh words he used with her.

"Of course it does!" She harshly whispered to him as the children in the kitchen played. "You're a Goold as much as you are a Baggins." She pointed out as she leaned in, pointing a finger at him with a glare that spoke of the anger she was holding back.

"Don't use that name with me." He warned as he stepped towards her, showing his own fierceness as he mimicked her glare. "I left it long ago and I'd rather not be reminded." The girl shook her head, scoffing as she rebutted the comment.

"A Baggins is what you are," she lectured, "whether you like it or not; and whether you want it or not, we are related through your unique situation, and I will not have you gallivanting around, ruining your life without trying to talk some sense into you!" she hissed out with her arms moving along with her words, eyes ablaze like a forest fire as she stated what she thought to the hobbit man.

And Bilbo backed away form her, still glowering as she was, but when the seconds moved past and he watched her lovely face, he couldn't help but to smile, the anger fading from his features as he watched her.

"What?" she inquired after his smile, seeming tired and put out as she rested her hand on her hip again.

"I am more than that to you." Bilbo answered and came over to her, his movements slow and cautious, pressing a hand over her blushed cheeks. His tanned fingers caressed her pale features and supple skin, and he thought she felt as soft as a bird's wing. Her skin was warm against his slightly cooler hand as he stared into her green eyes.

"You are more than that to me." He stated with a caring tone, his eyes shimmering in an emotions that clung to both their hearts as the air became still around them, but the moment was ended as the girl turn from his touch.

The boy sighed as he stood behind her, disappointed and saddened by her reaction, but he dared not touch her like he did before. So he stood there and he watched as her breathing rose and fell while he traced over the pale skin of her neck with his eyes.

Then she began to move away and he spoke to her. "Can you not take me as a contender for your heart?" the woman stopped as those somber words reached her ears and Bilbo held his breath as the sun outside blossomed, moving over the furniture and creating shadows near him while she gleamed in the daylight.

"No," she concluded, her head down, "not after what happened with..." she trailed off in thought and Bilbo understood as he backed away silently, feeling his heart sink in the moment while the light of the room dimmed, the sounds of the commotion outside growing as he slipped away.

The woman stood there as she watched the floor, lost in her thoughts, until the sound of a small voice came to her ears and she looked up to see her son come running towards her, his curls bouncing on his head as he opened his arms up to the woman.

"Mama, mama!" he called as he ran to her, his little feet padding on the floor while the other children in the room stayed in the kitchen.

"Loann!" she said, smiling as the child came over to her, and she knelt down to meet the boy.

"What are you doing mama? We hungry." He informed his forgetful mother, who nodded her head as she picked up the boy, the small one's arms wrapping around his mother's neck automatically.

"I was just talking to-" she turned around, about to address Bilbo, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Mama, what's 'atter?" the boy inquired with big worrisome eyes. The woman shook her head as she walked into the kitchen, turning away from the empty space.

"I guess I was just talking to myself." She stated as she moved to the kitchen.

* * *

Bilbo watched from afar as dusk settled upon the Shire and the sky lit with colors of fiery orange, transcendent pink, and treasuring yellow, sending the light of day away to invoke the night upon the land.

He stared off into the sunset as it fell behind the hills and twisting paths of his home. He sat at a place not many hobbits visited, and where he knew he wouldn't be easily disturbed. He enjoyed the silence that came with this small little place that was his.

He was able to get away from the world and all the problems and misgivings of it, but eventually he'd always have to face reality.

As he stared off into the sunset for another few minutes, he then heard the sound of footsteps approaching him and his peace was about to be shattered once more.

The hobbit looked over to see a man coming towards him, his shaggy black hair hugging his sweaty face as he moved in a green shirt that was cut off at the shoulders, showing off his muscles as the sunlight glowed over his form.

"Well, well," he started off, facing away form him as he mocked the other gentlemen, "if it isn't Tev, son of Klev." The man huffed in reply as he went near Bilbo, exhausted and tired it seemed, but not tempting himself to sit by the hobbit as he glared at him.

"Where have you been?" the man questioned him as Bilbo sat still, the green grass beneath his body and the glow of the sun on his face, giving off it's warmth.

"Where I wish to be," he answered without any hesitance or need of explanation. The man before him groaned as he faced the sun, looking at the last lights as he cooled himself off form whatever exercise he did.

"Well, either way," he huffed out as he stared at the sky, mesmerized as Bilbo was by the colors that adorned it, "Festri wants to see you."

The hobbit nodded as he sighed, knowing that this was coming from his actions earlier today; the Thane would want to lecture him. He was prepared for the repercussions though. He had been since he when he did the action. Now he would reap the consequences.

Bilbo stood up form his place, wiping off the grass as he nodded. "I think it is about time I see my father then,"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Hey I changed Bilbo's name from Falco back to the original because I felt that it wasn't actually necessary! And I edited some of the chapters before, so if you want to check that out you can. I hope you enjoy and like this!

* * *

**Year of 2941**

"Son," a man said, standing in the room with other men around him, all of the other just looking down at a map and papers as the guards that were stationed around him remained motionless.

The man's eyes glanced to him as the others looked to him, following his lead as they were interrupted by Bilbo.

Bilbo eyed the men and recognized them as people of importance in the Shire, but he did not address them. He hated the lot of them.

The men looked towards him with the same indifference, if not with a bit more agitation, as he showed them. But they made no move to comment or speak as they turned back to the man who stared and eyed Bilbo with a look that spoke of challenge and disappointment.

Bilbo watched as the man then leaned down towards one of the others and whispered in his ear. The man responded with a nod and signaled the others to come along with the guards, who were a bit more reluctant to go; but as they recognized Bilbo, they left with no more resistance.

Bilbo stood in his place as they walked past him, chatting to each other or just silently moving away, but each gave him a respectful nod, even the guards did, though it was obvious some were reluctant.

When all of them were out of the room, Bilbo stood in front of his father alone as silence engulfed them. Bilbo's father eyed him then as he folded his tanned arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side.

"What do you think you're doing?" he questioned as his brown, bluish eyes glared at him with disappointment and anger. Bilbo stood still under that gaze though, and he did not move or release eye contact from him.

The man huffed out a breath with annoyance thick in his moves. His muscular arms departed from each other as he placed his index-finger on the table.

"You think this is a game, boy? You think you can go around plotting things and not let me, your father and Thain, know of what you are doing?"

The boy wanted to respond to the man and give him an answer, but he didn't. He did not care why he was there or what he was doing, all he cared for was that he knew whatever Bilbo did before Bilbo did it.

"You _Must_ inform me of whatever relations you have and whatever things you shall do. If you do not, a storm of chaos crosses this place, and your actions provoke consequences that I cannot combat if you do not come to me!" Again he did not respond towards his father and stood expressionless in his presence.

His father shook his raven, curly hair as he rubbed his face in exhaustion and passive anger. He then stood tall with his blue elven robe on that had been cut at the start of the sleeves and had a design of vines laced within it of silver and gold, which sparkled in the candles lights.

The silken, dark blue layered against his tanned skin sweetly, even handsomely, and with his raven curls it exaggerated his appearance. The sword which land on his hip and tied to his belt, which situated his robe, only magnified his appearance of sturdiness. And though he held no crown upon his head, it was clear to anyone that he was the Thain. It was one of the few things Bilbo liked about him.

The man looked up towards him, with glaring eyes.

"Well?" he inquired and Bilbo now knew it was his time to speak.

"I had relations with Lobelia Sackville-Baggins."

His father folded his arms with a judgmental look on his face.

"And why is that?"

"She had influences in places I could never as I am associated with you and other dwobbits. So I used myself as a seducer of her and was able to gain a foot in her politics. Of course, she is more cunning than normal girls. So, I proceeded with precaution. She has been handled in ways and methods that have lessened some of the hobbits political hatred towards you because of your race."

The man narrowed his gaze towards his son as he walked around the table and stood in front of him, standing over him by a few inches above him.

"And why would you do that?"

"I did it because I thought that it would lessen the assaults and insults to you, and improve your position among the hobbits."

The man had an expression of thought upon his face as he stood in front of his son.

"For a time you may have, son." He whispered as he placed a hand on his shoulder.

"But," he squeezed his hand on the shoulder, making Bilbo wither in front of the man as he groaned in pain, "you have not been careful enough to not get caught by her damned husband and have her chase him and you while you were half naked!" He shouted in a low hushed voice as Bilbo was brought down to his knee by the force of the hand.

The man himself leaned slightly downward with the hold of the shoulder still on Bilbo.

"And don't flatter me. I know how you work. You did this for another reason and if you do not tell me, I'll have to beat it out of you." Bilbo shuddered as the hand sent him down on both his knees as the pressure increased.

Bilbo moaned in his state of pain.

"You already know!" He groaned out.

The man leaned down to have his face hover above the boy's own. "Tell me yourself, boy."

Bilbo looked down as the pressure on his shoulder increased, and he let out a pathetic whimper of hurt as he clenched his teeth.

"We can keep going like this," his father said, "or you can tell me."

Bilbo lifted his head up and shouted, "It was for Heather!"

Festri snarled as he let go of him and let him collapse in pain to the floor, holding his shoulder as it throbbed. His father only stood a few inches away from him as he observed his son's pitiful state.

"Why?"

Bilbo glared up at him as he held on to his shoulder, shielding it from further damage.

"You know why!"

"Let me hear it from your own mouth."

Bilbo stared at the ground as he heard his father standing still and saw his father's black boots against the cool stone floor. He shook his head, growling in frustration as he began to stand up, and letting go of his aching shoulder, wincing as he did so. When he stood level with his father though, he looked him in the eye with confidence.

"I did it because Heather was being hammered about running a place with children because of Oan, and their worries of her son around the other dwobbit and hobbit children, and the stories she told. So I slept with her, lessening some of the things she did by occupying her time with an affair, and I knew at some point she was going to get careless, which she did. From now on no one will trust that woman because of what she did, and how foolishly she acted in front of everyone, including her husband." He huffed out with a glare of hatred towards his father who looked at him dully and with little interest, but his slightly raised eyebrow showed some intrigue even though the rest of his face was stoic.

"You were meticulous, but you forgot that since you are of relation to me, and you were caught with her too, I get the end of the short stick as well."

Bilbo lowered his head, staring at the stone cold ground beneath his feet, until his father's voice boomed across the room again.

"But you did that on purpose."

He did not look up, and he did not respond because there need be no response. Festir glowered at his son as he stared at him with eyes of disapproval.

Then, with a neutral voice he questioned him. "Did she say she loved you?"

Bilbo breathed in a slight breath before he sighed. The boy then stood stiffly under his father's gaze as he answered him.

"Yes,"

"Did she believe you loved her?"

"Yes,"

His father glared down towards him.

"I do not like your tricks, Bilbo," he stated as he leaned forward, "but the way you manipulate things and people, I am quite impressed. And as you know it is hard to impress me."

He moved away from Bilbo.

"Don't think I am proud though," he retorted towards Bilbo's slight rise in his head, "manipulation can be used in many ways, but the one way that is thought of as cowardly is manipulating one's deepest feelings. And you do this with great expertise." Bilbo nodded, slumping forward slightly as his father turned away from him to peer down towards the table.

Bilbo stood there for a while in his place as his father's back was turned towards him, ignoring him and his presence. His father had never been proud of him.

His father had never really loved him or cared for him. Ever since he could remember his father was never pleased and never thought that he was good enough this way or that way. He was one of his pawns. And he knew that if his father wanted to end him, he would do it.

"Son, you aren't ready for the world." His voice seemed to echo in the disapproving tone he always heard as he was younger, never had he heard a peep of approval or a smile of appreciation from his father.

He only remembered him as the oppressor and himself in the state of submission to the man. The only way he could ever prove himself was through manipulation, which ended in situations like this.

His father placed his hands on the table as he leaned his weight on his hands.

"You are still a child in the eyes of many, including myself." He then turned around and leaned his whole weight against the table. "But nevertheless, it is time for you to go."

Bilbo raised an eyebrow to him.

"What has happened?" he inquired with a mind of curiosity, and suspicion as to some of the causes, getting a review on the situation at hand would help him immensely though. After all, it was going to be a situation he would have to deal with. But it was something he was trained for.

Though his father thought differently, he knew he was ready. He was ready for it all. It was time and even if he didn't want it, it was his moment to depart from this place.

His father narrowed his gaze towards him.

"The king of Erebor has fallen ill."


End file.
